Carriers
by JenInTheDark
Summary: The "Green Flu" has made it's way to the renowned city of Oregon, Portland. Four survivors have to try and make it to what has been called "Sanctuary" down in New Orleans, Louisiana. But how many people will die trying to make it there? In-put your own character story but only accepting the first 3 submissions. OC only. Rated T for violence and swearing.
1. Character Sheet

**Hello and Welcome…to **_**Carriers**_**!**

**For those who have read some of my other stories, this will be similar in the way you can in-put your own characters. However, instead of taking a vast amount, I'm only accepting three characters (to make a group of four). This is first come, first serve. Because there will only be four people, the character sheet is extensive, but a lot of it is only recommended. New chapters come every Wednesday (US and Canada: Pacific Time).**

**The story begins in Portland, Oregon. The date is November 17****th****, 2007 (so plan your ages accordingly). Age only plays a factor if you wish to use a gun (unless a toddler was trained in armed combat for some weird reason). **

**KEEP IN MIND. This is the zombie apocalypse. People might die. If they do, a character slot will open and the first to send in a character sheet will be put in. If your character does die, you are not legible to re-enter (give everyone else a turn).**

**Here is the character sheet you will follow. You may either put a filled out version for your character in the reviews or PM. Asterisk marks (or *) are required. The more you fill out, the better I can portray your character. By filling this out, you are relinquishing full control of your character, and accept that I may do what I wish.**

**Hope you guys have fun! **

*Characters Full Name:

Reason for Name:

Nickname(s):

Reason for Nickname(s):

*Gone by: The name they use

*Gender:

*Birthdate and Age: (Month Day, Year (Age)

*Eye Color:

Vision: Glasses, contacts, or 20/20 vision (really good)

*Hair Color:

*Hair Style:

*Height:

*Weight:

*Body Build:

*Nationality:

*Skin Tone:

Skin Type: Texture

Distinguished Marks:

*Hometown:

Accent:

*Reason why in Portland:

Family Background:

Type of Childhood:

Type of Adolescence:

Religious Views:

Favorites:

Habits:

Drinks or Smokes:

Quirks:

Occupation:

*Lifedream:

Goals:

*Attitude:

*Personality:

Fears:

*Strengths: Think of things that would be useful in the zombie apocalypse.

*Weaknesses: Think of things that would be useful that you can't do in the zombie apocalypse.

Soft Spot:

**I think that's all you need to know for now…first chapter set for 5/21/2014. I look forward to working with your characters! You also don't need to submit a character to read (that would be silly). Throughout the story, don't hesitate to give your opinion, but please do it in a respectful manner. If you give me respect, I'll respect you.**


	2. Chapter 1: The Inevitable Coming

_Carriers_

~ Chapter 1 ~

The Inevitable Coming

'The Green Flu' was the popular subject in Portland, Oregon on November 10th, 2008. "News has it that people are dying rapidly because of it!" whispers murmured through the streets. Some of the smarter ones hightailed it out of there the minute warnings spread that the flu was making its way there. Some of the more less fortunate prayed the stories they heard were nothing but exaggerations.

Whatever this infection was—it was not a flu you can just wash your hands to prevent. Rumors had it that people were changing to the point of no recognition. They even gave the transformed people names, varying from things like 'Smokers', 'Tanks', 'Witches', 'Jockeys', and many more.

Seven days later, a Sunday of all days, was the day the first infected person stumbled into the borders of Portland. As if the Earth itself was foreseeing the events to unfold, the sun couldn't be seen pass the many dark clouds; they hung low and were brooding, causing everything below them to shiver with the chill of no sun. Of course, this could have been seen as any normal autumn day. Somehow, that just didn't seem to be the case.

One girl was in a small office-like building, where she was bored yet believed to be safe. She sat in an office chair, spinning slowly to avoid getting sick. She wore skinny jeans tucked neatly into a pair of dark Ugg boots, a purple blouse clinging to her barely matured form that was matched with black arm warmers decorated with purple ribbon-prints. Tawny-colored bangs hung just above her round, blue eyes, and her wavy hair framed her face and highlighted childlike cheeks. At a glance, you would have never believe she was sixteen years old going on seventeen in only a week or so, but it was true. As if to add to her young appearance, she was shorter than the average female, measuring at only 5 feet and 2 inches. A feature in particular gave off the impression she lived there (or around there) her entire life, her pale white skin looking sun-deprived.

"Callie?" a man's voice called. The teen jumped slightly, startled out of her wandering thoughts. The man in question walked into the very open room and gave her an expecting glance. "Did you file the client papers yet?"

Making a distasteful expression, Callie rolled herself back to her father's desk, mumbling quietly. "I'm working on it…"

The father sighed, a part of him disappointed, but another not surprised. "You're being paid ten dollars an hour little one, and I'm not paying you to dilly-dally!"

As he walked away, the girl licked her lips and got back to work. Working for her father's small business was probably the most boring thing she could think of, but the pay was good and if she wanted to be able to afford the college here in a few years, she needed all the help she could get. Quickly typing away, her thoughts began to wander again to the deepest parts of her brain. She shook her head—_what is with me today? _Asking herself, the inner monologue distracted her from noticing an approaching figure. It wasn't until she heard her father's voice did she look up to see a man staring at her.

Instantly, she knew something was wrong with the man; his face was blue and wore a blood-stained shirt. Fear made her body seize up, and all she could do was stare back into the dead eyes.

"Hey! I told you, you can't go back here!" the father shouted, coming into view. If she had blinked, she would have missed what happened next. Her father was thrown backwards as the man suddenly launched himself. The girl stood up and screamed, adrenaline beginning to rush into her veins as she ran out into the hallway to stop the man. Terror washed over her as the man began to dig his teeth into her father's neck, blood gushing from the gaping wounds. Thinking fast, she immediately remembered a wolf decorated pocket knife her mother gave to the father for their anniversary, and she ran back to the desk to grab it. She opened it and rushed back, flailing the small knife until it started hitting skin, and dug it deep into the man's body. As if to make this worse, the knife did nothing to stop him, and he didn't even slow in the process of eating her father.

Tears were now cascading down her cheeks as she gripped the knife tightly and stabbed over and over, until finally it hit the spinal cord, sending the zombie-like man down for the count. The bleeding-out dad was unconscious now, causing the girl to panic. Callie stayed by his side momentarily before running out of the small building, hoping and praying that someone could help him. Unfortunately, the always-crowded city was not only packed but also filled with frightened people. Unable to comprehend the situation in front of her, Callie stood dumb-struck, causing a bigger man to hit her head-on and make her world turn black.

The sensation of rocks rubbing against her body made the girl's eyes flutter open. At first, she saw nothing but the cloudy sky. Looking around, she then made out a gentleman's face and blond, short hair as he pulled her along the ground. He was young as well, probably around the same age as she, but was very strong. Easily dragging her along, sometimes he would have to pull her with one arm instead of two as he tried to keep his dark gray-rimmed glasses from falling off his sweaty face. It took a moment for her to realize that she didn't know this boy, and thus she finally began to struggle against his grasp. His sharp, black eyes fell on the dazed girl and realizing she was awake, pulled her to a standing position. Before she could run, he held her by the shoulders both tightly and gently.

"Stop moving! We don't have much time!" he shouted with a thick, British accent. The surroundings were beginning to become clearer, and it was obvious he had dragged her quite a long way. Her father's shop was nowhere to be seen, but she still recognized this part of town. Surprisingly, the crowd in the street was definitely slimmer; all the people were trying to run away from something, yet Callie couldn't find the cause.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly, but the boy didn't hear her, taking advantage of her distraction to pull her toward a building with him. She guessed she had some sort of head injury, because the pain in her head was causing the events around her to be somewhat hazy. Letting the boy take her away, they entered a building on the corner of 1st Avenue and Market Street. The building was eerily empty, so he pulled her along the long corridor until they reached a receptionist desk. Telling her to stay there, he jumped the counter and searched the small area. Callie was beginning to notice now that she was unable to stand straight—her body swayed back and forth somewhat. The boy made a noise of satisfaction and reappeared from behind the desk, holding up a small bottle of prescription pain killers. Hopping over again, he opened the bottle and dumped a few out into his palm so he could select two and pour the rest back inside. He handed her the pills.

"Take this, it'll help with your headache and dizziness." He explained, dusting off his cargo shorts and straightening his button-up short-sleeved shirt. Incapable of questioning it, she simply obeyed and put the pills to her mouth and swallowed. "It'll take a bit for it to kick in, so until then we will hang around here and look for more supplies. All Hell broke loose out there, and it doesn't do us any good running out there like headless chickens. Let me look around and lock the doors…hopefully they don't know how to use doors."

When the boy left, the girl decided it was best if she sat down. The cool floor soothed her scraped up hand, so she figured it would do well for her head as well. Lying her head against the linoleum was a nice feeling, the throbbing not hurting so bad. With the pain killers starting to work in her system, the headache died down to nothing more than an annoyance, allowing for her thoughts and memories to come forward. The image of her father bleeding out on the floor wracked her body with sorrow and she cried out loudly, tears beginning to fall again. There was no way her father was still alive. She wasn't even sure if she did find someone if there was anything that could have been done. Then the thought of her mother and sister crossed her mind, and she knew she had to leave: the hell with this guy. He might have helped her, but she didn't know him and her family could be in danger. Slowly, she began to sit up, trying but failing to give her head time to adjust to the movement.

A sudden, loud noise rang out across the entire building, and Callie turned her head quickly to the source behind her while ignoring the sharp pang from her head. A young woman was close by, a combat knife in hand, and slowly approaching her. The knife was ready to strike until the illumination of the younger girl's face made her stop. _She's not one of them!_

With a relieved but shaky laugh, the girl praised the Lord silently for the find. Her hair was longer than Callie's by a couple inches, and was a sleek black color. The green eyes gave away her Chinese heritage, along with her fair complexion. She wore a white tank top, designed with colorful imagery of butterflies, and designer hip-hugger flair jeans with sandals. Walking to the younger girl, she held out her hand to help her up. Callie gazed up at the young woman, her height causing the semi-unfocused girl to feel unnecessarily scared. Seeing she was hurt, the woman frowned and knelt to have a better look.

"What's your name?" she asked. The way she spoke was with a tone you speak to children with, and it was not out of disrespect but moreover concern for the teen's wellbeing. Her accent was also British. It took a while for Callie to recognize the word 'name' and answer. In turn, she asked the woman her name. She was hesitant as well, but not for the same reasons. In these times, giving your identity to random people is never a good thing, especially when that identity could potentially be taken advantage of in this strange yet dangerous time.

"Just, call me Guardian for now, okay?" Callie nodded slowly, but stopped when it made her head pulsate. Even though Callie had no idea what was really going on, she also didn't know why this woman was even talking to her. Wasn't it that in these times of tragedy people tend to only take care of themselves and possibly friends or family? It certainly seemed that way in the streets outside. In her own mind, she would rather be up and finding her way home to check her mother and sister.

Footsteps on linoleum made the two girls look up and see the boy that had saved Callie running back. He was panting now, having basically dragged a 125 pound girl down the street and then run around a four-story building to lock doors and windows. When reaching them, he took a moment to catch his breath then asked about the woman. She gave the same name she gave Callie, and then the boy introduced himself as Al. The younger girl still sat on the floor as the two exchanged names, trying to break herself out of the stupor, when a collection of loud and unnerving sounds reached them. Callie and Al looked around curiously, while Guardian's entire body tensed.

"Oh no…there coming!" she muttered. Al glanced at Guardian, then in one fluid motion, leaned down and hoisted the girl up from the ground and lifted her to sit on the counter. Honestly, he had no idea how they would protect themselves for what was to come, but his caring nature forced him to stay with the two women. Guardian raised the combat knife to a ready stance, preparing for a lot of zombie-like figures to appear any minute. They could hear pounding on doors and windows as things were trying to force their way in. It wasn't long before the sounds of breaking glass and splintering wood hit their dreading ears, and the footsteps and growls came soon after.

Nothing reached them though, as shots were fired. The sounds seemed to echo all around them, their senses going crazy as they strained to find the source. People's dying screeches filled the air and caused Callie to whimper, feeling like she was stuck in a bad nightmare. The mysterious stranger didn't have all the fun though, as one had escaped and launched itself at them, but was easily picked off by Guardian's quick dodges and stabs.

From the darkness, they heard no footsteps but saw the silhouettes of someone approaching. Once closer, they could make him out more. He must be the same age as Guardian, for his face while matured still looked young. His sickly pale skin was pronounced as the light hit his arms, contrasting against the black t-shirt and dark colored jeans he sported. With sweat gliding down his forehead from the fighting, it caused the slick, medium length, almost-black hair to be plastered against it. The eyes looked dark and unkind, and even when they could see the blue shade in them, it didn't make him appear any less intimidating. Probably an inch taller than Al, he was still shorter than the immensely tall Guardian. When he stopped in front of them, Callie could barely make out a scar running down his left eye.

An eyebrow arched as he looked at the three, whom were staring at him. "What?"

Guardian gained her composure first and stood up straight, walking a bit closer and examining the heavy looking satchel he carried on his back. "Where'd you get so many weapons?" she questioned him, unwary of this new person.

"My dad's stockpile finally had use." He laughed harshly, and dropped the satchel to reveal three different types of guns, not counting the hunting rifle already in his hands. "Good thing I already know how to use them."

Al gulped, and stood straight like Guardian to try and look a bit more intimidating. "Are you planning on sharing? There's no reason to have three guns on your back when you have one that works fine."

"Hell no." he stated simply. "This isn't like video games kid, it's not as simple as picking a gun and going through an entire campaign with it; they bust easy and can get clogged."

"Please! We have no weapons of our own except my combat knife, and that won't work against a horde like that! Besides, strength in numbers, right?" she tried convincing him. He thought about this, and with a long pause, finally nodded.

"Alright fine, but just until we get to New Orleans."

"New Orleans? But, I thought the infection was already spread there?" Al asked.

"Yeah but the people who stopped believing in CEDA set up something called 'Sanctuary', and everyone is welcome so long as they can get there." Explaining to them, Callie was off in her own world, this time because of the head injury instead of her own distraction. Finally unable to hold it in, she screamed out, causing the three to jump from the sudden outburst.

"I can't go! I have to find my mom and sister!" she cried out. Al walked to the counter, but was unsure what to do. They all had to see scenes of complete horror and disturbing demises—but there stories will come later. The man glared at the young girl.

"There's no time. All cars are either already flipped or are burning. People go to Hell around here and try to make sure that if they're stuck here, might as well keep everyone else from leaving too. It's a long walk, and they're probably already dead." The disregard to her feelings shocked her into simply staring back into those dark blue eyes. Al glared at the stranger, as well as Guardian. She turned to Callie as well, trying to comfort her by saying her sister and mother probably were heading there already, and they might be able to find them if they hurry. Overhearing this made the man snort. Al faced away from them and looked the man up and down, wandering to himself if this was the type of man to stick around or shoot you in the back when you became a hindrance.

"So what should we call you: asshole?" he asked, believing in the latter of his thoughts.

"Shadow." He told him.

"Is that your real name?" Al clarified, disbelieving.

"No, but I don't really feel like giving you my whole life story." He snapped back. Guardian now had helped the younger girl off the counter, and had walked to the pile of guns, eyeing Shadow suspiciously.

"So we all have trusting issues. Hopefully they'll be resolved the further out we go." She stated, having her own doubts in her mind. No one said anything, but carefully selected a weapon. Al took the pump shotgun, Guardian picking the submachine gun up and testing the light gun. Merely staring at the pile, Callie couldn't pick up the M1911 pistol, having never used a gun. Noticing this, Al quickly came to her side and picked up the gun for her, placing it in her frozen hands. Briefly, he showed her how it worked, and even had her do a couple test shots. At first the recoil was immense for her, but it didn't take long for her to become accustomed to it.

"You're a natural!" smiling, Al pointed out. Callie gave him a half-smile, her worries still focused on her family. Hoping they knew about New Orleans, Louisiana like this man did, she waited for instructions.

"Before we leave, we should look around the city. We'll need as many supplies as we can find before heading out." Shadow told them, not really knowing how he became some sort of leader, but decided since he knew more it would be best. The other three nodded, not very comfortable from taking orders from this aggressive fellow, but deciding it was their only option. With the plan in mind, the three walked back down that long corridor, and without hesitation threw themselves back into the burning city.

**A/N: AAAND THAT WAS CHAPTER ONE! I hope you liked! Okay, so for the four characters there is a four-chapter immunity (along with any new characters to come along). After that though, the dice will be rolled to see who lives and who dies. You can still submit a character, but it will have to wait in line for those already in the story. IF your character dies, I am letting the creator create another character, but you can only have a place in line AFTER your current character dies. Tell me how I did! Descriptions in this chapter were pretty in-detail, at least more than how I normally do it. Thanks for reading! Until next Wednesday! **


	3. Chapter 2: Difficult Bridges

_Carriers_

~ Chapter 2 ~

Difficult Bridges

The pale, teenage girl was absolutely miserable. On top of a throbbing headache, Callie had witnessed her father being gruesomely eaten alive and is now fighting for her life. She didn't even know if her mother and sister were still alive. By this time, her clothing had become bloodstained from the times an infected would creep up on her.

This Sunday afternoon was very contrary to most people's belief of a holy day.

Searching for supplies in the office building, they found four emergency med-packs, which could be carried on their backs. With no one living in sight, they took the med-packs, in case of any injury.

In a whole, the group was a very strange one. Two teenagers, one very feminine girl and a kind-hearted British boy; then there were the two young adults, a protective Chinese woman and a very shady young man. Trust between each member of the group was limited, and everyone was on their guard. But this wasn't the time for chatter—it was time for action. There's no idle conversation in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, of course.

Before leaving the office building, they tried using the phones at the receptionist desk: they discovered that the phone lines were inactive.

After exiting the building and picking off the surrounding zombies, Shadow began to lead them in the general direction of New Orleans, Louisiana.

"We'll have to cross the Willamette River—hope you all know how to swim." He told them.

"What? How do you mean?" Guardian asked worriedly. She was a good swimmer, but never before had she needed to swim across an entire river.

"He's joking…we'll be taking Burnside across." Al explained, not at all amused. This helped Guardian's nerves, but not by much. Curiosity made Callie break that uncomfortable personal barrier they all had, and hurried so to walk alongside the other female.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she questioned quietly, her voice soft enough so the boys couldn't hear. Giving out private information to someone she just met was never an idea Guardian was fond of, but she guessed that there wasn't much a sixteen year old could do to her anyway.

"No, I came from China not too long ago; there was a job offer down here I wanted to take advantage of. Guess I came at a bad time though." Her answer made herself feel slightly more depressed, one of the only comforts being her family was safe back home.

Walking along made the group feel uneasy, for the number of infected inside the seemingly always-crowded Portland was very low.

"Keep on your toes…" Al muttered aloud, his trigger finger itching.

Near the road they walked by was a construction zone for a new building. Shadow stopped all together. It took a moment for the others to realize this and stop as well.

"What's wrong?" Guardian asked, slightly irritated.

"Something's not right…" he murmured. Callie's eyes drifted from the two over to the construction site, and just inside her peripheral vision she saw movement. When she glanced straight on, whatever moved was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, this entire thing isn't right. If we stay here, _we_ won't be alright." Al snapped at the older man.

"I'm usually good at picking up on dangerous situations, so if you want to charge forward into potential peril, be my guest." He responded coolly.

"Guys, I think I saw something…" Callie announced. Turning their heads to look at her, a horrible noise started to get louder. It was the same noise they heard at the building.

"They're coming!" Guardian shouted across the noise, and they stood in a small circle, facing the incoming infected.

Shots rang out in every direction, some easier than others. Guardian and Al were taking them down with ease, while Shadow and Callie struggled slightly with the horde. Shadow's sniper was meant for long-distance targeting, and Callie's weapon wasn't really meant for fighting against zombies upon zombies. That's not to say that both don't work well. Paying more attention to the oncoming infected, Al failed to notice a hooded zombie crawling on the ground. With a howl like no one heard before, the hooded creature threw itself into the air and landed on Al, sending him to the ground. Shock and pain kept him from moving, and the blood covered mouth was all he could see of his attacker's face. Its claw-like hands began digging at him, easily tearing his sweatshirt into shreds. Stumbled by the force of their fallen comrade, the other three were stunned for a second, before Guardian managed to shove the infected off. Before it could crawl away, she shot it in the head, the body falling and tripping other zombies.

Still on the ground, Al was unable to thank her as his eyes caught a construction-worker infected coming up behind Shadow. The athletic young man then rolled to his hands and knees and sprung at the incoming zombie; Shadow looked down in surprise as he witnessed Al and an infected man fighting for leverage at his feet. To help the other one, he couldn't shoot or else he might hurt the younger lad—instead he waited as Al managed to separate himself from the zombie's clutches, and then shot the infected in the chest until it went limp. As he stood, Shadow offered him a hand, and Al gratefully took it. With only a nod to acknowledge the exchange of help, they returned to killing off the last few zombies.

Once the crowd dissipated, they all looked to each other to make sure of their wellbeing. Other than scratches and bruises, they were all okay. Setting out again, it wasn't long until they reached a road adjacent to another road—at the end of this road was a CEDA set-up camp that wasn't there this morning. Guardian spotted this first, and hailed to the others. Glancing at the camp himself, Shadow did not see where her excitement was originating.

"So it's another failed camp," he pointed out. She glared at him. Normally a kind woman, she was still human, and at this time the man was irritating her.

"We don't know that. I say we check it out." She countered.

"Who all of a sudden died and made you in charge?" he asked, his tone remaining calm yet aggressive.

"I don't understand why we'd follow you either. But if this _isn't_ a failed camp, we could get out of here!"

"Say that to the thousands of people who have already died while putting their trust in them."

"You are impossible! We are putting it to a vote." She shouted, as if she had the final say. He didn't argue with the idea, and instead looked to the two teens, who until now have been patiently waiting for their argument to end. Suddenly put on the spot light and victims of heavy stares, the two looked to each other for some sort of comfort. After a lengthy eye-to-eye gaze, they both looked at Shadow apprehensively.

"There might be someone still alive there…and they might know a quicker way out…it's a long way to New Orleans…" Callie said slowly. Shadow's right eye twitched. A fleeting thought passed through of him simply dumping the idiots and going on his own. He quickly vanished it though. For reasons unknown, he had to stay with them—even if they might be his demise.

"Fine. We'll try it _your way_."

"Thank you." Guardian said curtly, then led the way down the street. The camp looked ominous and was completely silent. On the way, Shadow seemed to go more out of his way to kill the infected. He would back them and pick off infected that they couldn't even see; but of course he could, for he had his trusty hunting rifle. Most of the roads they traveled seemed short, possibly because their mission was so prominent in their minds. This road was the complete opposite. Even though they must have walked a hundred steps, the camp appeared no closer than they began. Finally after many minutes, they walked upon the premise.

Abandoned—there was no one in sight. Guardian looked around, her hopes of a rescue fading to utter disappointment. Tables and tents stood empty. The group unconsciously drifted apart as they searched for some evidence that someone might be close by. Walking by and peering into some of the tents, Callie saw a revolting sight. A fat zombie that had boils up and down its body was staring at her. Her surprised yelp notified not only those around her, but the fat infected as well. She backed away far enough for Al to shoot it, and it exploded all over the tent. Angry shouts filled the air as another horde ran at them. Guardian and Shadow run to the aid of the other two teens, slowed by the oncoming horde. Spotting a tall infected with a long tongue, Guardian shot at it, not wanting to know what the tongue was for. It exploded in a burst of green-like smoke. Her attention turned to Callie, who had another hooded infected jump at her and take her to the ground.

Al and Guardian screamed out the girl's name, but before they could even twist around to help, Shadow hoisted the sight scope to his eye and in one clean shot was able to kill it. As Callie scrambled to her feet again, Guardian took it upon herself to guard (haha) the girl, regardless of those around her. Seeing her reckless move, Shadow began to multitask with keeping zombies off of him and Guardian. Rushing to the girl, Callie had to continue saying she was fine, then another infected with a long tongue appeared. Raising her pistol, Callie aimed at the creature and shot relentlessly at it, before it could do any harm. Like the last, it exploded in a puff of smoke. To finish the fight off, Al shouted "Boomer!" and with one shotgun blast made another fat infected explode.

The four stood panting in the middle of carnage. Shadow recovered first, and walked amongst the dead bodies. Kneeling down, he examined them.

"A lot of them have hazmat suits on." He identified. Upon closer inspection, he discovered the CEDA symbols. Callie and Al joined him, and began speculating while Guardian hung back.

"Guess those suits don't help with zombie bites." Al joked half-heartedly. Shadow stood and watched Guardian start to leave the camp. The two teens stood too, and saw the woman begin to leave. Callie hopped over a few dead bodies and ran to her.

"Guardian! Where are you going?" she asked. The older woman didn't answer at first: mostly because she had no idea where she was actually going. Maybe away so that her decisions wouldn't affect the group. Watching the men come closer at a slow pace, she sighed and shook her head. While her choices may be dangerous, at least an extra gun would help this group.

"Nowhere." She answered. Frowning, the younger girl didn't believe her, but didn't push it either.

A rush of wind interrupted them, and they all looked up too late to see a mutated-bat creature swoop down and grab Callie by the shoulders. Screaming, she struggled violently. Guardian and Al raised their guns, only to be stopped by Shadow.

"Stop! You'll shoot her!" he warned. When they backed down, he raised his sniper and carefully aimed a little higher than the creature was. The shot he took was perfect, as it went through the zombie's skull. While the shot was excellent, the now dead infected dropped like a bag of potatoes, with Callie still in its grips. Running to hopefully catch the girl, the bat had carried her farther than expected, and she landed on the ground with a crunch. She gave an "oof!" as she crumpled on concrete. When they reached her, she tried to stand, but found it difficult. Guardian approached and urged the girl to not move, then scrutinized the limbs she had fallen on.

"I think you'll be okay…just a sprained ankle…you're lucky that thing didn't take you very high." She concluded, taking Callie's arm and draping it over her own shoulder. Helping her stand, the girl wobbled at first, then was able to walk close to a normal speed with careful stepping.

Exhausted, the group started again. Perhaps it was the thrill of defeating two zombie hordes and living, but the four people felt…odd. Not chipper, but willing to hold up a conversation. It could be that the thought of having to survive a zombie apocalypse with these people are finally sinking in.

"So, I'm guessing those people running around are just zombies. But what were some of those other…things?" Callie pondered aloud.

"Well, I heard on the news that the fat ones were called Boomers." Al chimed in, glad for the distraction from his brooding thoughts.

"The hooded ones are called Hunters; the ones with the tongues are called Smokers." Shadow informed. Guardian glanced at him.

"How do you know all this?"

"When the warnings started, I looked up every danger there was. Those bat things? Weren't on the list."

"What does that mean?" Callie asked, a shudder running down her spine.

"They're changing. Quickly. Patient zero was infected less than two weeks ago, and it's already spread across the states. Imagine what will happen in less than a month."

The suggestion was not fun sounding, and left depressing thoughts in their minds. The awkwardness was broken however when Callie shouted out "Bridge!" and with relief, they all started to run on to that bridge. As they did, the sign behind them reading "Portland Oregon" with a deer donned above it, flashed dangerously—as if cautioning.

Crowded with cars, they basically zig-zagged their way through. To make matters worse, a suspicious roaring sound they haven't heard yet was frighteningly close. They stopped in their tracks, looking over at one another as they strained their ears to listen. Beneath them, the ground began to shake, and the roaring came closer. Backing away with guns raised, they awaited to see the monster. Behind a semi-truck, the infected emerged, probably about 7 feet tall and more muscular than any hunk could ever hope to be. It ran at them like an ape, using its gigantic arms more than its tiny yet powerful legs.

"What the Hell is that thing?!" Al shouted.

"Shoot it!" Shadow ordered. Gunshots were fired nonstop, but it seemed like nothing was going to slow this beast down. The closer it came, the more scared the group became. Not even a meter away and this tank monster did damage, smacking cars away as if they were mere flies. One car flew toward the two girls, crushing them both. Al was about to help them when Shadow yelled to wait. They continued to gun the creature down, and just as they were cornered by a car and the creature, it fell to its knees and landed on the ground. Taking the chance, Al threw the shotgun on a holster that came with it placed on his back, and ran to the girls. With Shadow's help, they lifted the car just enough for the injured girls to crawl through.

"Are you okay?!" Al questioned, sitting down with his med-pack in his hands.

"Yeah…we're fan-fucking-tastic…" Callie muttered. The comment was ignored as Al began to patch her up, putting ointment and bandages on her wounded forehead and wrapping up her left arm. Shadow covered the three, and Guardian healed herself up, bandaging her right leg and waist. Ten minutes later, Shadow looked them over.

"That'll have to do for now. We have to make it to a safe room." He told them. Al glared at the impatient man, but knew he was right. The last thing they wanted was to be ambushed. He helped the younger girl up, and they made their way again. Funny how one thing can make a bridge that symbolized progress now seem hazardous.

Unknown to their conscious mind, that bridge was much more than progress; that very bridge was escape. They all hoped that once passed it, the hellish nightmare they've endured for the past hour and a half hours would be lifted. That's not how life works though. The bridge that gave them hope also so brilliantly crushed them. On the bridge was a tough encounter, and it sinks in that it will not be the last. Those people they witnessed die will not come back. Those they kill will not ease their conscious. Those they fight will not hesitate from killing them.

Across the bridge now, their once prideful strides have now turned into mournful shuffles. Callie's tears fall silently across her cheeks. Al looks at his feet, refusing to look up. Guardian shivers as the cool of the night makes her aching body hurt worse. Even Shadow moved slowly and with less precision, for a nineteen year old who broke long ago is still capable of feeling pain, no matter how hard he tries to not feel anything.

Nonetheless, hope comes in many forms. Just off the bridge, Callie spots a strange symbol of a red house. She points it out, and Shadow instantly recognizes it, and enlightens that a safe house is near. They follow the red arrows with a new haste, and low and behold, they entered the International Collision Repair shop to find the regular door was replaced with a red, steel one.

Once everyone was inside, Shadow closed the door tightly, and for extra precautions they boxed it up with as many heavy containers they could find. This is the first time all day they have been able to rest.

"How far do you think we've gone?" Guardian asked Shadow quietly, sitting in a chair in the small office room to rest her leg. The entire building was closed off except for the initial entry.

"I'd say about five miles, maybe." Shadow muttered, looking through some of the boxes and shelves. Al helped him, giving Callie time to repose herself. They found ammo as soon as they came in, the assorted pile sitting on a desk. Guardian was still in the process of refilling her oozie. Approaching carefully, Callie came to Guardian, a flash grenade in each hand.

"I'm not really sure what this is…but I think it might help at some point." She says quietly. Guardian grins at the girl, and takes one appreciatively.

"It's a flash grenade. When you pull the pin and drop it on the ground, it will blind everything in sight. A strange thing to find here…" she mumbled the last bit, but Shadow overheard.

"They stock these places up so people can prepare themselves."

"Well it looks like this place was almost picked clean…" Al said disappointedly. Then he comes across some bottles. "What's this?"

Shadow glances at the boy. "Molotovs. You throw them and they explode in flames." He then walks over and takes one, putting it in his much-lighter bag. Al finds himself a bag, and places the last Molotov in it as well, careful to put it in a pouch so it didn't spill. As the others spoke of the trip to come, Shadow rummaged around the last bin and found one bottle of pain pills. When he looked inside, there were only two left; that was still enough to help with some pain. Checking behind his shoulder, he pocketed the pills, and returned to the group.

"We all should get some sleep. In the morning, we can take off again." Guardian suggested slowly, almost as if double checking herself. The group agreed and they went to separate corners of the room to fall asleep. However, all four of them found it very difficult to do so. Scenes of gruesomeness still clear in their minds, all four of them tossed and turned, but didn't say a word to each other. Either distrust or humbleness caused them to suffer in silence—even if all of them suffered from very similar distresses.


End file.
